My Favorite Things
by paperbkryter
Summary: A Lana/Clark ship. Lana is feeling blue and Clark is there to cheer her up.


The house was empty and silent save for the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the dining room and the faint squawking of the television in the family room. A note on the refrigerator spoke of chores already accomplished and a lunch already eaten while on the kitchen table lay homework already finished. Outside it rained.   
  
Lana was bored.   
  
She lay sprawled on the couch in the living room with a book open upside down on her stomach and the television remote in her hand. The book was one which she'd been unsuccessfully trying to get into for weeks but it seemed to be failing to catch her attention quite enough to make it a good read. The television - well - eighty nine channels brought in by satellite and there was still nothing worth watching. She flipped through all eighty nine, sighed, and started all over again. After a while she paused to mute the sound, listened, and sighed again as she realized it was still raining.  
  
She'd had the option of going with Nell to Metropolis on a shopping excursion and she'd turned it down in favor of spending what had looked to be a sunny day, at home. The clouds had rolled in not long after Nell's car had vanished down the road and Lana's plans of going for a leisurely ride were dashed with the first drops of rain. She and the horses were stuck indoors and now Lana found herself longing for the mall and a hot lunch at her favorite Metropolis restaurant. Nell, however, was long gone.   
  
Lana had called Whitney only to discover he and a group of friends had also gone to Metropolis for an afternoon hockey game. She'd been hoping he would come over and they could go to lunch and a movie in town, but instead she had to enjoy a cold lunch of left over roast beef and rather watery iced tea by herself. She'd done all her homework while she finished lunch, attempted the book several times, and finally parked herself in front of the television.   
  
There was nothing to watch.   
  
In disgust Lana turned off the set and stood up. Tossing the remote and her book onto the couch, she paced around the room before opening the door and stepping out onto the front porch. A breath of fresh spring air wafted inside as the door swung open, invigorating her as she inhaled its clean scent. It spoke of warmer weather to come, and held upon it the faint hint of a floral perfume. Somewhere the first blooms were starting to push up through the earth - crocus and daffodils and tulips - and their scent had been caught up in the rain. Lana smiled, her eyes bright, as she thought of the bouquets of bright yellow, pink and orange Nell would soon have filling the flower shop.   
  
Then she remembered the flower shop was no more.   
  
Her spirits sank with her as she sat down heavily on the glider, and as she looked out into the rain, her eyes filled with tears. She scolded herself for being silly and sentimental, but she could not help herself. In this time of dispossession, when she was desperately trying to understand who she was and where she was going, the continued loss of childhood mementos was wearing on her. She was frightened of the future. She felt as if time was pulling her along its path much too quickly and she clung to things from the past as if she were a little boat clinging to its anchor lines during a storm. One by one those anchor lines were breaking, and Lana felt herself in danger of being tossed out into the raging sea alone and unprepared for the assault.   
  
She thought of the Talon - her new endeavor - with pride, this was true; yet when she thought of the flower shop where she'd spent so much of her time growing up, her heart ached. The bright flowers and their wonderful perfume, filled her memory as they had once filled her senses. In the spring and summer when so many flowers were in season walking into the shop had been like walking into a fairyland - Dorothy gone to Oz. In the winter the scents of evergreen and Christmas potpourri brimming with cinnamon and cloves had been warm and comforting; and she'd often sat warming her hands on a mug of cocoa while helping Nell during the holiday rush.   
  
Memories and the dreary day, wore Lana down, and she indulged in her tears.  
  
The phone rang.   
  
Lana gave her nose a swipe, and got off the glider. She hurried into the kitchen before the answering machine could grab the call, and snatched up the cordless.   
  
"Hello?"  
  
The voice on the other end was incongruously cheery compared to the grey day and Lana's mood.   
  
"Hi! Are you busy?"  
  
God, no.   
  
"Clark?" She moved back out onto the porch and resumed her seat on the glider. "No. I'm extremely unbusy, why?"   
  
She could almost picture the blush and the nervous smile, and it made her smile herself. He was so funny sometimes with the coy - "I've got a crush on you" - act.   
  
"Well, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me a hand with something."  
  
"If its homework Clark, I know you're lying." she laughed. "What are you up to?"  
  
"Come over and see, I'm in the loft." he said, and hung up.   
  
Lana stared at the phone for a minute, then grinned, and went back inside for the keys to her truck.   
  
Trust Clark to save the day.  
  
********************  
  
Despite the cool rain and the damp, the barn was actually quite warm and cozy. All the lights were on, and the few animals the Kents kept in this particular barn were snug in their stalls - their bodies helping to warm the air. Lana paused to give Decca a pat and the carrot she'd smuggled along in her pocket. In his typical crotchety manner the old horse regarded her suspiciously before taking the treat, and Lana had to laugh at him. She knew she was one of the few people besides Martha the old gelding actually liked. He despised Clark, and from Clark's grumbling she suspected the feeling was mutual. She'd actually heard Clark murmur the word "glue" once in a beneath-the-breath anti-Decca tirade.   
  
"Be good or he will make glue out of you one day."   
  
Decca's ears twitched as he crunched the carrot. He could not have been less concerned, and Lana had to laugh at him again as she headed for the stairs to the loft.  
  
She did not see Clark at first, and she was puzzled for he had very clearly indicated he was in the loft when he'd called. As she reached the top of the stairs though, she saw him - or at least part of him. He was crammed under his desk so that only the bottom half showed and she could hear the rather muffled sound of his voice as he spoke so someone - not her - from wherever the top half had hidden itself. She could not make out the words.   
  
"Clark?"  
  
"WHAM!"  
  
The desk shuddered as his head hit the bottom, and Lana clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.  
  
"Ooh. Are you okay?"  
  
The top half appeared from under the desk. His eyes were wide with surprise and his hair was a disheveled and dusty mess; and Lana saw immediately to whom he'd been speaking. In each hand he held - looking as wide eyed and startled as he did - a fuzzy orange and white striped kitten. Dangling from the front of his shirt with an expression of utter bliss, was a third kitten - this one a dapper little black and white tuxedo with huge green eyes.   
  
Lana immediately procured a kitten. "Oh no! Not another batch!" she cuddled one of the yellow and white kittens as Clark carefully unhooked the tuxedo from his shirt.   
  
"Two actually." he sighed a bit, and gestured with a nod.   
  
Following him into the "sitting room" part of the loft, Lana saw the other two Kent cats lounging on the sofa. Frisky, the ancient tortoiseshell, and the younger brown tabby, Boogie. Frisky looked completely unconcerned with the two kittens Clark set down in the middle of the floor, but Boogie was completely disgusted to the point of stalking off in a huff. The two kittens proceeded to romp and pounce on each other, Clark's foot, a bit of paper on the floor, and generally anything else they could get their paws on. Lana set the third one down and it immediately joined the melee. She joined Frisky on the couch.   
  
People were always abandoning animals at the end of the Kents lane, and had done so as far back as Lana could remember. For some reason it was assumed it would be perfectly reasonable to abandon a housecat at a barn out in the country despite the fact said housecat had been a pampered and coddled indoor cat for most of its life. "Oh, it can catch mice." they would say. "The farmers will be happy to have it."   
  
What it usually caught was death, and the farmers usually had more than enough strays to take care of the mouse situation. It was far less cruel to take an unwanted animal to the pound and have it put to sleep than to dump it in a rural area to have it fend for itself, or to hope someone would take it in as a pet. Such beliefs were simply rationalistic fantasy, and the things she'd seen, living as she did in the country, made Lana quite angry about it.   
  
The babies that were dumped were even sadder, for they had no chance at all if they were not found. Every year Clark found at least one litter of kittens or puppies dumped at the end of the lane. Sometimes he wasn't in time to save them and he would discover their little bodies cold and dead from either drowning in the ditch or simply succumbing to hypothermia overnight. His little rescues gained him the reputation of being somewhat of a Dr. Doolittle and there were very few people in town who could not trace their beloved family pet back to one of Clark's orphans. The Sullivan cats were all from one litter, and the Ross' two goofy dogs had both come from abandoned litters a few years apart.   
  
Clark sat down on the sofa beside Lana. He held a shoebox lined with a towel and lying within the little pink nest was a tiny ball of grey fluff.   
  
"This was the only one that lived out of the other litter. They were too young to be taken from their mother." He glanced wryly at Lana, who gently lifted the kitten into her hands. "She's staying, since Frisk is getting on in years she's not hunting anymore, but I have to find homes for the other two."   
  
Lana held the grey kitten up to her cheek and her eyes widened. "She's purring! She's so tiny and she's purring!"   
  
"They do," he laughed.   
  
She handed the kitten back, and watched as he held her carefully in one hand while he fed her with an eye-dropper. It purred, and with tiny claws, kneaded his fingers as she drank her milk. Gradually Lana edged closer so she could watch, and without quite realizing it she found herself leaning upon Clark's shoulder with her chin resting on one bicep. When she did notice, she did so with some surprise - wondering when she'd become so comfortable with his presence that she would sit so close. It occurred to her to move, but she was comfortable, and Clark - intent upon the kitten - paid little attention to her.   
  
Beneath her cheek, Lana could feel the strength of him, and it belied the tenderness he bestowed upon the tiny animal in his hands. It always surprised Lana how a boy could be so much stronger than a girl and yet be so very gentle at the same time. Whitney was like that too. He could do things such as lift her into the air and twirl her above his head, surprising her with his strength; and then brush his fingertips over her lips in the softest of caresses. She felt safe in his embrace because of the strength of it, and yet it was so tender. A study in contrasts.  
  
Clark was even more of a study in contrasts. He was taller and lankier than Whitney, and although he was sometimes quite clumsy, Lana had seen him move with surprising grace. She couldn't help but compare him to the horses she loved - animals who appeared so big and clumsy yet could flow like water across the ground and leap into the air as if they could fly. A horse could pull a plow, and nuzzle a foal to its feet - both strong and gentle - and the same animal that could be friendly and outgoing one moment, could turn shy in the next and run away in fear. Lana understood horses, and she understood Clark, and she sat very still next to him so that he would not run away from her.   
  
What am I doing?   
  
She looked at his profile; the long lashes as they brushed his cheeks, the fall of his hair over his forehead, the faint dimpling of his cheek as he smiled down at the kitten - and she felt her face flush.   
  
I love Whitney.   
  
Do you?  
  
It was Clark who helped her save the Talon. It was Clark who seemed, when no one else did, to understand what she was feeling. He listened to her. God only knew everyone else was probably tired of her sentimental clap trap - sometimes she got on her own nerves - but she felt talking about her memories, and her fears, were the only way to exorcise her demons. Clark understood that, and he was always there for her when she needed someone to listen. He never judged. He never blew her off. He listened, and he always seemed to make her feel better. Like today. When he called, it had almost been as if he'd known she was unhappy.   
  
The soft voice came unbidden, and echoed in her mind, setting the seed of doubt and confusing her even more:  
  
"I just think you're with the wrong guy."  
  
Clark looked up as he suddenly realized she was leaning on his shoulder. Lana could feel his muscles tighten against her and she was again reminded of a spooked horse poised between staying put or fleeing. He turned his head towards her, and as their eyes met she could feel the tension slowly easing from him. His eyes were all she could see and within them she sensed a deep and desperate longing the like of which she'd never experienced. It bordered on pain, touching Lana's heart and opening her up to feel something she'd never felt before - something she could not define but which she desired more than anything in the world keep feeling.   
  
She fell into his eyes, and couldn't escape, and knew when his lips touched hers things would never be the same again.   
  
He never made it.   
  
"Ow!"   
  
Lana jerked upright and raised her foot to find the black and white tuxedo kitten clinging to her ankle. Its tiny, but horribly sharp claws, were digging through the thin cloth of the leggings she wore as it climbed up her leg. It mewled in protest as she unhooked it and pulled it into her lap while its two comrades zipped under the sofa and rolled back out again in a tumbling ball of orange and white fur. Clark, his face flushed, hastily turned back to feeding the grey kitten.   
  
"We never quite commit", Lana thought to herself as she cuddled the squirming tuxedo kitten. "We get close, and fate sends something along to mess us up."   
  
Its not time.   
  
She cleared her throat, and frowned. "This kitten is wearing a collar."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Its been claimed. I just need homes for the two tabbies."   
  
Lana ran her fingers under the collar, pulling it out from the fur a bit so she could see it better. What she had at first thought were rhinestones turned out to be something else.   
  
"Clark..." she said slowly. "This isn't a collar."  
  
He looked over at her. "Yes it is." his brow creased. "Isn't it?"  
  
"Its a diamond tennis bracelet."   
  
"Ah well, that figures. I wondered where he went when he said he'd be back with a collar. Tiffany's apparently." he laughed. "That's the new mouser for the royal mews."  
  
"The royal mews?"  
  
"Lex's garage."  
  
Lana put the kitten back down on the floor where it scratched at its "collar" gave itself a shake, and then dropped down into a butt wriggling crouch before pouncing on the other two kittens. Lana looked at Clark with a wry expression.   
  
"You mean to tell me you managed to talk Lex Luthor into a kitten? Clark, you should seriously consider a career in sales. How did you do it?"  
  
He ducked his head and gave her a wry smile in return. "I simply explained what exactly a mouse could do to the leather upholstery found in various vehicles of European origin - Jaguar, Mercedes, Ferarri...."  
  
"You are devious. What did he say?"  
  
"I'll take the well dressed one."  
  
Lana laughed, startling the romping kittens. They stopped and stared at her with wide eyes, as if appalled, which made her laugh again and she fought not to frighten further. They recovered quickly however. Only a moment passed before they resumed their playing by dodging around and over Clark's booted feet while Lana rested her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees; watching them. The tuxedo wound up upside down, blissfully alternating between wrestling with Clark's shoelaces and its own tail. Lana smiled, and turned her eyes back to Clark.  
  
"You always know how to cheer me up." she said.  
  
Clark didn't look at her, but kept his attention on his little grey infant. "Did you need cheering up Lana?" he asked softly.  
  
She sighed. "I'm going to miss the flower shop."  
  
He was quiet for a moment.   
  
"You know. My mom has a greenhouse out back."  
  
"She does?"  
  
"Uhhuh," he gently put the grey kitten back in her nest. "She sells the bulbs in the fall, and some cut flowers in season. Right now the whole greenhouse is full of crocus and daffodils - all bright yellow and white."   
  
"Like sunshine." Lana whispered.   
  
Clark looked up at her, and his expression was gentle. "Yeah, like sunshine."   
  
They looked at each other, and again Lana felt herself falling. This time, however, Clark rose from his seat before things progressed any further. He took the milk and the box to a low shelf in the corner where the kitten would be safe and warm. He then scooped up the other three one by one and, despite their protests, penned them in a large cardboard box before digging up a large red umbrella from a pile of miscellaneous junk in another corner.   
  
His eyes were bright as he came back to Lana and held out a hand. "Come on. I think we could use a little sunshine on this dreary day, don't you?"  
  
She smiled up at him, and took his hand.   
  
******************  
  
The greenhouse was beautiful, filled with light and color and warmth. Lana forgot all her cares and her worries, and walked through the rows and rows of bright yellow blooms with a spring in her step. It renewed her, and gave her hope, and Clark's broad grin as she wove a chain of daffodils to wear around her head like a crown, was inspiring. He had saved her memories once when he'd helped her with the plans to renovate the Talon. Now he was saving her memories of the flower shop by gifting her with the knowledge of and access to the greenhouse. They spent the rest of the afternoon among the flowers, Clark explaining to her the different varieties and showing her the hydroponic equipment. No one else would have thought she'd understand it all.  
  
"You can come any time you want. Mom won't mind." he'd said as they left.   
  
Lana had hugged him, and the kiss she applied to his cheek made him blush.  
  
If, in time, their relationship never progressed beyond the friendship they shared, Lana would have no regrets; although she did regret it had taken her so long to appreciate him in the first place. He gave himself unconditionally, and always took her seriously. Not many people did that for Lana Lang. She'd always been treated as the "poor thing" who had lost her parents and who flitted through life sheltered and naive. Head cheerleader, dating the quarterback, Lana was dismissed at school as the "can do no wrong" girl. She had few friends, despite her designation as "popular" and no one seemed to think she had any valuable opinion about anything.   
  
Except Clark.   
  
She stood at the bottom of the steps and looked up at him as he stood watching her leave. She wore a bright yellow crown of daffodils upon her dark hair, and held in her arms the two orange and white kittens. One she would keep, despite Nell's protests. The other she would present to Whitney as a gift for his father. Mr. Fordman could not longer do many of the things he'd enjoyed before his illness and the kitten would be a pleasant distraction for the whole family. Clark's good deed would turn into Lana's good deed.   
  
"Thanks." she said quietly.   
  
"Sure. You can bring them back if it doesn't work out."   
  
"I will, " and she smiled as she saw the tuxedo kitten peek out at her from between Clark's feet.   
  
He smiled back, and Lana wasn't sure if it was right then, or if she'd known from the first time they had come so close to a kiss - but she realized she loved him. Had she not been standing at the bottom of the stairs and he at the top, she had no doubt the moment would have ended in the kiss they'd missed so many times before. Again fate had stepped in, and somehow changed the situation away from the moment which Lana, for the first time, wanted to happen more than anything in the world. Whitney was the furthest thing from her mind as she stood there looking up into Clark's eyes, and her heart ached with the same longing she'd felt in Clark earlier.   
  
She could barely say goodbye.   
  
Later, as she sat on the front porch with Whitney, watching the kittens play, she kept finding herself glancing out across the fields towards the Kent property. In the distance she could just barely make out the peaked roof of the barn and the dark square of the loft window. The clouds had finally departed, and the night was clear and bright under a full moon. It was one of those nights where the moonlight was nearly as bright as the sun, and objects cast long black shadows across the midnight blue landscape. The moonlight danced along the glass of Whitney's truck parked in the driveway, and, as Lana looked across the distance, sparked off something in the window of the loft. Startled, she caught her breath.   
  
A mirror? She wondered.   
  
No, her mind whispered. She suddenly realized that afternoon's phone call had not been a coincidence.   
  
He had seen her tears, and come to her rescue.  
  
Now here she sat with Whitney enjoying the kittens play, and the thought of Clark watching it made her chest hurt.   
  
"Whitney," she said quietly. "I'll be right back."  
  
"'kay."   
  
She went into the kitchen, and dug around in her purse until she found the slip of paper she needed. She dialed the number printed there and waited for an answer to her call.   
  
He picked up immediately.   
  
"Hey," she said. "Whitney is taking a kitten. The one with the white paws."  
  
"That's good. So you're keeping the other one?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
She could sense his grin. "Even better news."  
  
"I'm naming him Sunshine." she said. "Did Lex pick up his kitten?"  
  
"Yeah, not long after you left. He's not quite so good at names though." Clark's voice was full of wry humor. "He's naming it 'the cat'."   
  
Lana chuckled, and there was a momentary silence on the line.   
  
"Clark," she said finally, quietly.   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks for looking out for me."   
  
He didn't reply for a while, but when he did, it was clear that he understood her meaning.   
  
"You're welcome."   
  
"I'll see you in school tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Okay." There was another pause. "Good-night Lana."  
  
"Good-night Clark." 


End file.
